


Guess God Thinks I'm Abel

by cigarettesandalcohol



Series: I get round to loving you (Is that such a crime?) [3]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Background Het, Brother/Brother Incest, Guilt, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twisted, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Vomiting, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: "Stop."It never worked. Not with Théo.





	Guess God Thinks I'm Abel

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again, into the shitstorm.  
> I'm sorry again.

He's drunk.

He's happy.

That is his right, isn't it? It's his wedding day. A sunny, summer day, spent outside - even the ceremony itself was in the garden in the end - with his friends and family and Erika's family and - his own family.

He's married. 

Erika looks beautiful in her wedding dress, and if a big wedding with a princess styled dress is every girl's dream, then she has definitely reached hers by now.

It could easily be the best day of his life, and he tries to think of it like that.

His normal, great, perfect life of a footballer. 

He became famous. 

He plays for the club that brought him up.

He now has a beautiful and loving wife.

He's gonna play for the national representation - 

Overall, he's young, hopeful, healthy and happy.

Isn't that all he needs to be happy?

Théo's wolf grin looks more dangerous and alarming with every step he takes closer.

"So my big bro is married now?" he says, smiling, but there's something wrong, fake and insincere in that smile.

Antoine tried to keep his voice calm and composed. "Yeah."

Théo's hands are greedy, possessive and rough as he pulls Antoine into a tight embrace, in front of the family, in front of everyone.

"The suit is perfect for you," he mumbles, holding onto Antoine's curly hair. "You look so good - "

"You should say that to the bride."

There's the sweetest smile on Théo's lips as he pulls away. "I don't give a fuck about her. I know what you're playing here."

Antoine can see their mum wiping her eyes in the background, and she's smiling proudly, unaware of what kind of conversation is going on, and Maud is coming closer with her arms wide open - "' _toine_ , you really are becoming a responsible adult now - "

 "I'm not so sure about that," he laughs, but the laughter scratches the insides of his throat, making the whole fake laugh painful and almost unbearable.

It seems like today, everyone is too lost in their own false happiness they just can't see his suffering.

The only thing their mother says to Théo is "You drink too much today."

Yeah.

Sure.

He does.

He always does.

He drinks and he smokes and he sometimes takes some drugs Antoine doesn't even want to know about and then he swanks on Instagram about it and throws reproachful looks at Antoine.

Because it's _his fault_ anyway.

"He drinks too much, doesn't he?" the mum repeats, laughing, patting her younger son on the shoulder.

"Leave him be, it's a big day today," the father says, grinning at his both sons. Sure he's proud. Sure he's glad there's a traditional wedding and his older, more responsible and mature son takes a big step into the real adult life - Maybe there's hope even for Théo to calm and settle down one day?

There's a great deal of laughing and grinning and winking and whispered words and secret touches and the sun shines too bright and Antoine's head hurts from it all, the laughter, the sunshine, the heat, and the stress. And when some of the people started leaving in the late evening, he was almost grateful for that, because the madness of a big reception was slowly calming down and he just couldn't wait to be really alone, only with his bride - even without their families, without the members of their families, without Erika's parents who behaved like they were too classy for this garden party anyway, without his own parents, who were just way too happy for him, and without Théo, who drank like three bottles of the most expensive white wine, at least ten years old, all by himself, with his eyes watching Antoine over the edge of the glass the whole time.

And then there was Théo's desperate " _'Grizi, come here_ \- " in the hallway, his warm, sweaty palms pushing him to the wall and his alcohol-soaked lips pressing against Antoine's in a forced, needy manner - 

He pushed him away with all his might, though the ground was slipping a little under his feet, and he definitely wasn't sober at all. "Get off - of me - "

He needed two inhales to even finish the sentence.

"Grizou - "

There were the bathroom doors and Théo's body against his, his own mind hazed by the alcohol fog and his absurd fear of getting his expensive suit torn or dirty, and then the sound of the lock of the door clicking and Théo's hand all over his body - 

"I can't take this anymore, Anto - "

He fights with his brother, feeling how sloppy and drunken all his moves must appear, knowing he's lost if some miracle doesn't happen - 

\- because he won't call for help.

He won't tell.

He won't fight with his full force.

Because it's his fault.

He was the first one to touch Théo.

And there they were now, almost wrestling by the bathroom door, with Antoine shamefully losing.

 "Théo, please - "

Even when he tries to not hold back, it's not useful.

"What's wrong? Calm down, _Grizou._  I would never hurt you - "

 _What's wrong?_ Sick, sick, fucking sick bastard - that's what his brother is, that's what Antoine knows well, and yet, he can't bring himself to shout it, scream it and rub his face in it, because he knows it's _him_ who made him be such way.

"I'm your older brother - " he chokes out as if that actually means anything  _now_.

"That's why I love you."

 _No, that's not_ , Antoine wants to scream.

Stop lying.

Stop pretending.

Stop playing.

 _Stop - just stop_.

"Stop."

It never worked. Not with Théo.

His hands hold him in one place, and the push him back against the wall, and with Théo's body pressed against his, there's really not much to do -  

"You ruined my life, Antoine."

_Oh, did he? Did he?_

"Get away from me - "

"You don't understand, Anto. You can never understand this, you were always the golden child who had everything - "

He looks drunk with his upper shirt buttons undone and hair tousled to one side, and he's so close Antoine feels like it's so hot in the bathroom, just because it's Théo's body against his, and the wall behind his back, and the small, unventilated room.

" _You_ have everything, Théo, you. All the fucking money you want, all the luxury - " he spat out, turning his head away in disgust to avoid looking in his brother's eyes. He was still trying to keep his voice low, though he was sure the outside music was so loud it would mask any kind of noise from the bathroom.

 _Any_ kind of noise.

"I'll never be as good as you - "

"Should I feel sorry for you?" he asks through his gritted teeth.

There's something wrong with him and it doesn't feel well.

The touch of Théo's hand on his cheek was the last thing he needed to start feeling actually physically sick, and when Théo moved on to his neck, his insides all suddenly tightened up and he gagged, bending forward in a poor attempt to somehow help settle his stomach but it was a few glasses of wine and pieces of steak late - though maybe it wasn't the food and the drinks, maybe it was the stress, the fear, the weight of this day, the responsibility and seriousness of everything that has happened that day - and the private hell of this moment combined - 

_Oh, God._

_Don't mess the suit. Don't mess the suit._

At least now Théo lets him go and gives him some space, just enough to get on the floor by the toilet and throw up in it violently.

" _Fuck_ \- " he pants, feeling as if his insides are being washed with cold water. " _Fuck_ \- "

His trembling fingers onto the toilet seat and he feels like a child again, sick, vulnerable and weak child, being held by his worried mother through the battle with his own body - or, or maybe he's fifteen again, shitfaced with a group of friends, vomiting behind some random bus stop in Madrid? - no, no, he's still here, and it's not his mother who holds him by his shoulders, it's none of his friends from the youth academy, it's only Théo - 

" _Fuck_."

He knows his whole body is covered in sweat and he knows this all is disgusting and he knows he should flush the toilet and get the hell away from it but his limbs won't listen and he stays slouched on the cooling floor tiles, being held by Théo who sits right behind him, rubbing his shoulders.

He can't tell why is he shaking so much.

"You're alright," Théo mumbles. "You're alright. We won't tell anyone."

No. Sure _we_ won't.

Because _we_ never tell.

But one day - one day, eventually, he will have to say it all - at least to someone.

He will tell Erika.

Because he can't live like this.

There's a soft, almost shy knock at the bathroom door. " _Umh - hey? Are you okay_?"

Antoine moans in desperation as he recognizes Maud's voice.

The disgrace was complete.

Théo reached for the door handle and unlocked the door which Antoine could tell only by the sound. Was the door really locked?

"What the fuck?" Maud's voice was shocked yet still quiet. "What are you two doing - "

"He's had a bit too much - " Théo explains, returning back to his position and to holding Antoine in his arms protectively. "I just wanted to keep it quiet - nobody needs to know, right?"

"Oh God - " Their sister quickly got down to Antoine and glanced at his face. "Are you crazy? At your own wedding? I thought you know how to drink - "

"I'm not that drunk - "

Maud got up on her feet again and promptly flushed the toilet. "I'll bring him a glass of water or something - Jesus, Anto, are you stupid or what?"

"I'm sorry."

It's easier to apologize than explain.

 Maud sighed, patting his curly head in sympathy. "Where there's the two of you, there's always troubles."

"Hey," Théo grabbed her hand that was just resting on top of Antoine's lowered head so now they looked like they were laying some curse or blessing over him. "Don't tell Ma and Pa about this."

"No, of course - "

"And don't tell Erika."

_No._

_Don't tell her anything._


End file.
